Trigger Ring
by Leo-Arcana
Summary: Boys are never satisfied with just looking at a weapon. They have to touch it, hold it. In some cases wear it, even if they have absolutely no experience with it.


June 26th, 1178

"Abbas, wake up," Altair whispered.

He waited a moment for the other boy to wake up, but when he didn't, Altair scowled and shook his shoulder. Abbas groaned in annoyance and made a half-hearted attempt to roll away from Altair.

"_Abbas…!_" Altair snapped quietly.

"What?" Abbas grumbled, "Can you not see it's the middle of the night?"

"Yes, I can," he deadpanned, "That means it is the perfect time for us to go to the armory."

Abbas glanced at Altair and sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"Are you still going on about that? There is nothing special in there, just as Al-Mualim said."

"I know there's nothing 'special', but there are weapons Al-Mualim would not let us even touch in there."

"He will let us use them when we are no longer novices," Abbas replied.

"Let's go."

Altair gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and went to the door of their room. He opened the door without the slightest sound and peered out in the hallway. Then he motioned for Abbas to follow him as he crept outside. The other boy sighed and followed after him. He couldn't deny there was a part of him that wanted to hold some of the weapons and if Altair was planning to sneak in there anyway, he may as well go with.

Abbas trailed a few yards behind Altair and whenever he caught up, Altair darted off to the next turn in the hall and checked for any of the night-guard assassins. Most of the guards were stationed outside, but there were a few who patrolled the dormitory to make sure the younger apprentices and novices remained in their quarters.

Altair went to move around a corner, but suddenly back-tracked, grabbing Abbas' arm and taking him with. He pulled Abbas into a small niche with him just as a night-guard casually walked past. The assassin didn't notice the two boys hiding and continued on the down the hallway. When Altair could no longer see the glow of his torch, he silently ran out and disappeared around the corner. Abbas grimaced at his friend's quick pace but followed just a quickly.

Along their way, they saw only one other night-guard who remained stationed outside the heavy metal door of the armory.

"This is not going to work," Abbas whispered, "He will not move unless he sees us, in which case we will be in a considerable amount of trouble."

"Wait here," Altair said.

Abbas was about to object but Altair had already left him. He sighed and watched the night-guard, who lazily looked around once every few minutes.

Suddenly, the halls echoed with the harsh sound of metal crashing against stone. Abbas nearly jumped out of his skin at the sheer volume and the night-guard, with almost no hesitation, ran from his post to investigate the noise. Less than a minute later, the first guard they had seen bolted past him in the same direction as the other. The noise stopped, though it continued to echo throughout the hallways.

A moment later, Altair reappeared at Abbas' side, startling him again. He nodded towards the door and both of them ran towards it with less caution than before. Altair lifted the wooden door bar while Abbas pushed the door open. Abbas slipped inside and held the bar up for Altair as he did the same. Altair shut the door faster than the bar fell, allowing it to fall back into its place. They paused and listened intently for a few moments. They could hear the guard returning to his post outside the door, grumbling incoherently about something, but otherwise seemed unaware of them inside the armory.

Altair smiled in relief and pride, but Abbas stared at him.

"What?" Altair sighed.

"How are we going to get out?"

He waved off Abbas' concern, telling him that he would think of a way out while they were going through the weaponry. Abbas scowled but knew nothing he said would change the situation, so he may as well enjoy.

He walked between the massive weapon racks, studying the way the moonlight from small windows reflected off the lethal metal objects, giving them an unsettling appearance. The long, gleaming reflections of swords followed him, then disappeared in a flash. Dots of reflections on maces glittered madly like the surface of violent waters. Knives and short blades flashed their edges at him in warning. Axes and hammers glowed with malice and cruelty. He had been curious about the weapons before, but now he dared not even touch them. If he had thought this might've been a bad idea before, he was sure it was now.

Abbas moved quicker between the racks to find Altair again. He found him near a rack, or rather mantle, that displayed the assassins' signature weapon; the hidden blade. Of all the weapons in the armory, this one unsettled him the most for its very namesake. And of course, Altair was holding it and turning it over as it were no more dangerous than a simple armlet.

"Altair, be careful with that," he said quickly.

"You sound just like the Master," Altair tutted, "I'm not a child."

Abbas huffed in annoyance; no child likes to be compared to authority, though like to act the authority sometimes.

Altair turned the hidden blade over once more before unbuckling its straps.

"What're you doing?" Abbas asked.

"What does it look like? You didn't really think we were only going to look, right?" Altair grinned, "We can _see_ the weapons anytime, but we can't _use_ them anytime."

The leather of the armlet groaned as Altair pried it open a little to slide his arm into it. The he braced it against his leg as he used his free hand to retighten the straps. He held his arm up for both of them to see.

"What of the ring?" Abbas asked flatly.

Altair looked at the small ring at the front of the armlet, attached by a thin string; the trigger. He pulled on with the most gentle of care and moved his other hand slowly to align his index finger with the trigger ring. It was the index finger it was worn on right? Altair couldn't remember. He slid his finger into the ring and let it regain its tension. Then he gave it a quick flick.

The blade gave a short, faint biting sound as it shot out of hiding faster than they could blink. Both boys flinched at the weapon's hasty response and stared at the single focus of moonlight gleaming from its razor sharp point. Altair let out a breath as he relaxed and moved his wrist to retract the blade. It hissed in protest, but returned to its place.

"…Do not do that again," Abbas warned.

"Aw, did it scare you?" Altair teased.

"No, but it should have scared you. What if it had reacted faster than you?"

Altair rolled his eyes and walked past Abbas, pushing him aside as he did, which caused the other boy to jump back in paranoia. He walked over to the high rows of shelves that held various bombs and poisons, along with a few scrolls containing directions on how to make each one. On the far end of the room, atop one of the highest shelves, Altair noticed an ornately decorated box. He was sure there was something special in it. He didn't know what, just that there had to be something.

"What do you think's in there?" he asked, nodding towards the box.

Abbas looked in that direction, but didn't see what Altair was talking about. There were several boxes and containers.

"In where?"

"That box."

There were several boxes and containers.

"Which one?"

Altair sighed; he wasn't going to play this guessing game. He stepped behind Abbas and turned Abbas' head in the direction of the box. Then he reached over Abbas' shoulder and pointed at it.

"That—" _Snick._

The air around them became cold as ice as metal flashed through the moonlight, followed by a faint, wet thud. Abbas stared wide-eyed in horror at the blade, fully extended and dripping with blood. He felt Altair grip on his other shoulder tighten, his breathing deepen, and his body begin to tremble. Abbas' eyes followed the blood dripping onto the ground. Within the gathering pool of blood lay a finger that only seconds ago had been a part of Altair's hand.

Abbas wretched himself free of Altair's grip and darted away. He steadied himself with a nearby desk as he was unable to contain his stomach and threw up on the floor.

Altair swayed slightly, remaining where he stood, and brought his hand closer to himself. He turned it palm up and stared at the blood coating it and the blade that obscured where his finger had just been. He swallowed thickly as tears burned his eyes. He looked from the ground where his finger was, then to the blade, and back to the ground. His breathing quickened again with rising panic and pain.

Altair let loose a cry of heart-stopping pain as he collapsed to the floor, cradling his hand to his chest.

Abbas panicked and felt like his way going to throw up again, but resisted. He was torn between running to Altair's side or going back the entrance and banging on the door for help. Obviously, the second was no longer necessary. The night-guard outside had heard, could still hear, Altair's screaming within the armory. He was sure the entire brotherhood could hear it.

Two guards bolted past Abbas, straight to the still screaming Altair.

Altair's vision darkened as the room began to spin and tilt around him. It taunted him with the images of his bloodied hand, the horror on Abbas' face and his finger laying a few feet in front of him. Suddenly, it was too much for him to handle and everything went pitch black; all feeling gone from his body and mind.

o0o0o0o

_**Author:**_** so, I've had this idea for a while because no one ever asks Altair how he lost his finger. Not even in the books. So, here we go. A one-shot (maybe…?) on how I think he lost it.**


End file.
